


once again

by Syorein



Series: Inspired Work [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Poly, Pre-Relationship, Yulia is still quite young and dumb and this is waaaaay pre relationship, which would be far off if this were an actual full fledged fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24833341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syorein/pseuds/Syorein
Summary: What does it mean when the one person that the world decided was for you, throws you away?(Yulia AU ficception)
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Pre-Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov/Original Female Character, Pre-Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov/Yulia
Series: Inspired Work [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/703524
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	once again

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [i wish](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8815594) by [nsykdk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nsykdk/pseuds/nsykdk). 
  * Inspired by [not ready](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9637313) by [kunnskat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunnskat/pseuds/kunnskat). 



> I am in love with Yulia and she deserves love and affection.
> 
> however, I could not help the angst filled fic this is, but know that it leads to the start of her recovery and eventual loves of her life

Yulia is freshly 17 when the name on her wrist vanishes and the man she had thought was the one to always be at her side— _leaves_.

To put it lightly, she spirals.

She crashes and burns down into a vague form of living. Of takeout meals and the smell of cigarettes wafting throughout her apartment.

Her eyes feel like they're going to explode out of her skull because she's unable to sleep beyond fifteen minute increments, nightmares and emptiness greeting her whenever she even comes close to knowing peace.

Everything tastes like ash in her mouth, even the pudding she used to eat feels like congealed blood slipping down her throat.

She wishes she could fix herself, because she's been getting comments from her photographer about her ribs showing in photo shoots. Her perpetual red eyes make her look like a drug addict and her dark circles have made her look like someone smeared coal under her eyes. The shakiness of her limbs is nothing to laugh about, either.

Everything is falling apart.

Her body.

Her life.

The bathtub becomes her solace in an otherwise soulless waste of a living quarters. It's the only thing that will give her any semblance of something that resembles comfort.

As she huddles in her bathtub, clad in her stupid designer clothes, she closes her eyes and wishes.

She wants all of this to stop.

* * *

Yulia is freshly 20 when she inadvertently meets the man who was supposed to be her soulmate.

She shatters.

Again.

As she laughs— _and cries_ —on the floor of her bathroom, she can't help but think how it was meant to be. This meeting between her and someone she had intrinsically trusted, because that Saturday that they met was the week before she was supposed to work in a large scale project with a famous artist.

Just when she had finally gotten her life together.

She should've never went to that networking party.

It's ironic, she screams out into a drink on her kitchen counter. She even ran away to America to escape memories of what could've been, yet here she is crying in her loft in New York about a man who would've been the only person to care about her.

The only person she could've trusted in this world that's sped on ahead of her.

Maybe she just wasn't meant to be loved.

If even what the universe preordained for her was cut away.

* * *

She quits modeling the very next day.

Her agent is furious, the artist even more so, and her company is ready to completely blacklist her from the industry altogether.

Yulia can't bring herself to quite care, because she's running on a collective 50 minutes of sleep with a horrible headache from both dehydration and her drinking from the night before.

TV static is all her eyes are processing, as they run across the lime green walls of her agency. Waiting on a sunken leather couch for the paperwork that will release some sort of feeling into that numb brain of hers.

It's an oddly peaceful task to ignore everyone talking to her, to just calmly sign her name and the multitude of check marks she has to make in the perfect little boxes on her contract-releasing form.

Surprisingly, the only thing she has to deal with is a rather large fee.

She thinks that maybe they were lenient with her because she's ruined herself so badly that she can't even be saved.

Her replacement is probably going to be the brown haired teenager that is her junior from the last SS cover.

She hopes for great things for that kid. For that bright eyed child to never ruin herself like she did.

But she supposes that it has nothing to do with her anymore, as the end of the contract arrives.

The final flourish of the pen swipes across the signature line is almost cathartic, if she had a word for the oddly bland feeling she has as she stares down at her name on the paper.

The noise of superficial condolences and niceties brushes past her as she blankly shakes the hand of the lady in front of her.

As she carefully lifts herself up from her chair to leave, she crashes into another person. Sluggishly turning around, she keeps her eyes lowered— _god she's so tired_ —and mumbles out something like an apology.

She probably looks like a wreck, she thinks as she stares down at the oddly casual sneakers of the person she nearly toppled over. As her eyes focus onto the nice dress shoes next to the shabby sneakers, she waits for them to leave so she can get on with the rest of her awful life.

Her hair is filled with dead ends that tickle against her face in the only affection that she will ever receive now, with her dumb and ugly glasses resting upon her face that's breaking out from her shitty lifestyle, as she absentmindedly registers the hand that lightly rests on her arm.

Vacantly trailing her gaze up from the two pairs of shoes, she follows the dress shoes to the suit—

To a head of _silver_ hair.

The blue eyes that had once captivated her when she was a dumb child who thought she was worth anything are looking at her.

She vomits.

**Author's Note:**

> Yulia is really having a bad time even when she's not even at the drinking age lol
> 
> is it illegal? yes, but anyone who thinks that someone has not tried drinking when they're under the legal age in America is really fooling themselves 
> 
> esp cause Yulia is fairly attractive, even when she's really crashing and burning mentally. someone has definitely gifted her high class wines that she completely chugs
> 
> (on the note of the OT3, yulia is characterized as someone who is still innately kind despite how big of a dip her self esteem takes. her offhand comment about her junior to the leniency of her agency to how she's always alone and never reaches out. it's somewhat of a very light deconstruction of the societal impacts of soulmates and soul marks)


End file.
